


Lost and Alone, This Body's Not My Own

by MaskofCognito



Series: Alternative Nano Challenge [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternative Nano Challenge, Body Dysphoria, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Horror, Multiple Personality Disorder, One Shot, POV First Person, Psychological Horror, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskofCognito/pseuds/MaskofCognito
Summary: Alexis Marsh wakes up feeling drugged and kidnapped. Only, that's not what happened to her. She's confused and scared and looking for answers. When she finds them, she's bombarded with a mass of new information she was not at all prepared for.
Series: Alternative Nano Challenge [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534499
Kudos: 4





	Lost and Alone, This Body's Not My Own

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Free Space  
Used: Horror

My name is Alexis Marsh. And this can’t be happening.

I woke up about five minutes ago in deep and unsettling darkness. I don't know where I am, and I can’t see two inches in front of my face. My body moves differently, heavy and clunky. And my limbs don't quite respond like normal as I search for a wall. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been drugged or kidnapped. Or both.

I can't hear anything. The silence is engulfing and my brain decides it needs to make up shapes and sounds to keep me sane. It's only scaring the shit out of me and I wish it would stop.

Reaching a solid surface, searching by touch alone, My fingers hunt for a light switch or maybe a flashlight. 

Maybe two minutes have passed and I finally find and flip a switch. Good thing, too, because there was an eerie feeling of someone being in the room with me. I quickly check my surroundings, but I find myself alone. 

I'm in some kind of workshop or converted two car garage. There are tools all around me and a small window that peeks outside. It's dark out, save for the illumination from the lamp posts. 

I look down at my hands, still feeling unlike myself, and notice hard callused fingers and thick knuckles. I was pretty certain before I woke up that my nails were painted with a french tip manicure and my fingers were soft and slender. Touching my chest, I notice I'm wearing overalls and there’s a distinct lack the usual mounds of flesh on my chest. I start frantically looking for a mirror. Have I been mutilated?

There's a sink in the corner near an interior door with some orange container on it that looks like soap for people who work with oil and gas. Above it a mirror. I rush toward it awkwardly. Panic really sets in when the person staring back at me is not what I expect and I touch my face in horror.

My face is that of a man's. A man I do not know. These lips are not mine. My eye color is all wrong, my hair... I don’t have a beard. How did this happen? How is this even possible?

My heart is beating against my chest, trying to escape. Panic makes my throat feel like it will close up, and I can taste acrid bile on the back of my tongue as I try to swallow. My stomach lurches on it's own accord, once, twice. I retch into the sink, spilling ruined contents of some unknown meal. Groping for the faucet, I turn on the water to wash the smell away and clean my mouth. And… beard. 

The taste is still there and I desperately need it out before I vomit again. I cup water into my hands and gargle. After a few attempts, I begin to feel better. I turn the water off and lean heavily over the sink.

My chest feels calmer, having gotten some of the excessive adrenaline out of my system. My mind clears enough for me to start wondering where I am and why I was in a dark room, passed out. Why I'm stuck in this man's body is a question I'll attempt to answer after I make sure I'm safe. 

There are three exits in the room. One next to the sink that presumably goes further inside the house, one to the far side, and the garage doors. I don't want to make a scene with the loud noise the garage doors may cause, and I don't want to go further into the house just yet. Not until I make myself an escape route.

Deciding first on the side door, I find it opens into a fenced in yard. There is a gate to the front yard and I go through it, immediately noticing a thick layer of fog has settled in the area. 

Beyond the light emitting from the nearby electrical post, I don't notice much. There's a driveway in front of the house and a red pickup. Be it the fog or the lack of residences nearby, it looks like I’m all alone for miles. Before risking going back inside, I make my way to the mailbox. I pat my pockets and immediately find a cell phone. Removing it, I snap a photo in the dim light of a piece of mail before returning it. I need to know where I am so that if I need 911 I can let them know my location.

Not seeing another way out besides walking for hours lost, or finding keys to this pickup, I walk to the backyard, peeking about it to check if anyone else is around.

Nothing. There's a grill on a patio with a table and chairs, but there are no people and none of the lights in the house are on.

There is a low growl, followed by a gurgle and I look around frantically. I expect to see some dog baring it’s canines at me, but instead, my stomach roiles and I realize the noise came from me. I don't know how long it's been since I last ate, so I decide it's time to brave the mystery of the house. Making my way through the area in which I've become familiar, I test the door to the rest of the house. It creaks open ominously, and in an attempt to make the sound disappear I swing it the rest of the way, stopping it short of slamming into the adjacent wall.

The rest of the house is pitch black and I reach for the cell phone and fiddle with it until the flashlight snaps to life. The hallway is bare, devoid of pictures or any clutter. It opens into a living room with a bar countertop connected to an airy kitchen on the left. Nothing is out on the counters and the house almost looks as if no one lives in it.

I flip on the switch, deciding I'd risk it than my only source of sight being from the small area covered by a mobile phone. One room at a time, I take in the small two bedroom house, turning on all the lights to rooms I’ve cleared until I find that I'm alone.

Alone. In what was a pitch dark house. Trapped in the body of a man. This has to be a nightmare.

My stomach rumbles again and I decide pilfer the fridge, finding leftover chili in a microwave container. I heat it up in the microwave and take my food to the living room. There’s a TV and I fiddle with the remote, putting on the news to check if there has been any missing people reported. Or maybe some strange body switching phenomena. 

Taking a few bites of the chili, I remember the phone in my pocket and pull up the photo I took earlier. The person who lives here is a Mr. Jonathan Burgandy. He lives in Oregon, which is not where I remember being before I woke up. I search the overalls and produce a wallet. The ID inside lists the name Jonathan Burgandy who in fact lives at this residence.

It's not a driver's license. It's only a normal ID. Below the name, it reads ‘Legally Blind.’

I lean back in the chair, the food long forgotten and the tv a blur of noise and motion in the background. This explains a bit, I guess. Why the house was in total darkness. Why there isn't any clutter. But it doesn't explain why I can see in this body, or why there is a truck in the driveway. Or what's with all the saws? What blind person would work with so many machines that could lop off a hand?

The questions I finally answered only led to more questions.

A creak sounds from across the room, and I barely register it as a door being opened. My head whips around to find a woman standing in the front entrance. My heart starts pounding in my chest.

"Hey, babe. It's me. What's with all the lights?"

I stay stock-still hoping she can't see me, but she walks toward me before it dawns on me that  _ I'm not me _ . I'm Jonathan. She touches my face, looking into my eyes.

"Hey, Johnny. What's wrong?"

I am not sure what to do or say. Can I trust her with the truth? But all I have are riddles. How would I even go about fooling her if I didn’t?

"Hello, my name is June. What's yours?" She asks before I can answer her.

"Uh— what?" I'm so confused. 

"My name is June. This body's name is Jonathan." She says and sits across from me, silently asking me for permission as she takes my hands. I nod. Maybe I’m dead and Jonathan’s some— some form of medium?

"Okay,” she starts again. “Jonathan has this disorder called D.I.D. Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's also known as Multiple Personalities Disorder. I'm Jonathan's partner, and he has three main personalities.” She stops for a moment, looking as though she’s waiting for me to catch up. When I nod, she continues. “However, he has more than just those three. And sometimes, a new one shows up, very confused. Like you."

"B— but I had a body of my own until just recently. When I woke up." I'm muttering, my words are garbled as they frantically escape my mouth.

"Yes. You had your own body, your own life. There is another place inside Jonathan's brain where all of you live. Jonathan had a trama when he was young. That trama was very disruptive to his development and made it possible for new personalities to emerge.

"For some people with D.I.D., there are only a few personalities in their whole life. For others, their personalities are a fractal. Personalities will continue to be born, whether full or partial." 

She points at my chest. “You, my dear, are one that I've not met. And based on the state of panic you're in, I'd wager this is the first time you've ever been in front, in the outer world."

I nod my head, "I— I guess so." It is still all jumbled and some of it doesn't really make sense, but the pieces seem to fall in line. Or, It would make more sense if not for... "But Jonathan is blind."

June smiles. "Yes. Jonathan is blind. But, he's, miraculously, the only one. The other two main personalities, Bill and Macy, both wear pretty strong prescription glasses, but they can see just fine." 

June moves one of her hands to the front pocket of my overalls. She pulls out a pair of glasses and offers them to me. "If the world seems fuzzy, try these on."

The world seems crystal clear to me, but I try them on anyway. 

My eyes start watering and I blink frantically, quickly removing the glasses before they make a headache I just noticed become worse. 

"How long have you been out?" June asks, concern etching into her features.

"Thirty minutes? Forty-five?"

"Are you feeling tired? You look it."

I nod. She stands and beckons me to follow.

"Seems like you might be going back into the inner world soon. Bu—" 

"What? How do you know?" June stops in the kitchen to look at me after my outburst. Her hand is on a drawer. 

"There are tells when a switch— in personality— is about to happen. Not everyone will notice, but Jonathan and I have been together long enough. I notice. You will be back in your own body soon. But before you go, in case you come out again, I want to show you something."

She opens the drawer and I peer in. There are several notebooks, all with different names and designs. And there's two that stand out from the rest. June takes them from the drawer and sets them on the countertop. 

"This one is for new personalities. You don't have to sign it, but," she flips it open and I move so I can file through the pages, "there is the table of contents of sorts, and then a page for each of the personalities that have come out and introduced themselves. Some of the names you may recognize from the inner world," she mentions as I see a few that spark memories.

"I know Jill, and Fabian, Sarah, and Thomas."

June smiles. "Thomas and Jill come out every once in a while. But Fabian and Sarah tend to stay in the inner world." She motions to the next book. "And this one is for the body. Everyone of the personalities are privy to this book. If you do come out more often, it would be prudent for you to read the last few entries— at least— and add your own. There is a bit on the day to day tasks— appointments the host body needs to keep— and welfare— such as if you ate for the body, what it was, did you brush the body's teeth, take a shower, etc." 

She looks at me again, waiting for my nod before continuing. "And if you do come out again, you will have a notebook all your own. Some personalities like and use them, others do not. But it will be there. With your name on it, when you are ready. And no one will read it."

My eyes feel heavy and June's words are starting to slur together.

"Okay. Come on, now. Let's get you to the couch so you don't fall down."

I follow her and my limbs move by only memory alone. The world around me starts to blur until—.

* * *

"Jonathan? Is that you?"

"Hey, June, babe. You back from work?"

"Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to write for Nano and commit to 50k when I know that a) I'm not great at long story commitments, and b) my life is a bit busy. However, I didn't want to NOT write this month. So, I decided to commit to a prompt a day for the month of November of whichever fandom I enjoy which gives the prompt the most spark. I'm using [this](https://n7month.tumblr.com/post/188450175349/n7-month-challenge) prompt list I found from tumblr, in case anyone wants to reference it or join in.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I'm not an expert on D.I.D. A lot of what I know came from research on Youtube of various people with the disorder. And just like with any condition, no two people (or personalities) will present the same. My intent was to create a thriller/horror story that didn't involve the normal media coverage of someone with D.I.D. as a killer or some kind of monster to fear. Instead, I wanted to create something showing what it might be like on the other side, as a new personality coming into the world unaware of what they are in for. It must be utterly terrifying. I hope that I represented this condition well, but either way this is a work of fiction and I do not have personal knowledge of it beyond my own research. Please do not take what I say as fact and do more research into the topic if you are so interested.


End file.
